


Tear apart

by Ricksbowlegs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Daryl Whump, Happy Ending, M/M, Rick Whump, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricksbowlegs/pseuds/Ricksbowlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurts, but Daryl really wants Rick to be happy, so he makes a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tear apart

**Author's Note:**

> New Rickyl fic. I made myself sad. I don't even know what the hell this is. Still, hope you enjoy and let me know if you hate it. I kinda did.
> 
> Unbetad. All my mistakes.
> 
> Disclaimer. Not my characters. I don't make profit from it.

“C’mon. It’ll be alright,” he says, rubbing yer shoulder in a comforting manner, but ya shrug his hand off. Ya want him to know it’s not okay. It’s not. It will never be okay again and it’s none of his damn business anyway. But you don’t say the words. 

He still stays by yer side as ya drink half the whiskey bottle without offerin’ ‘im a sip. 

Ya suddenly feel like a jerk, cuz in essence ya are, at least t’im. He’s trying his best to make yer sorry ass feel less of a disgrace, but somehow, that makes ya angry. Because that means he feels sorry for you, which means that what ya saw earlier that day at the bar was not in yer imagination. 

And that’s the reason yer drinking yerself unconscious. Because even if he’s not yers anymore—he hardly ever was— even if it’s some other jerk who gets to hold him and sate his needs at night, even if it’s not ya anymore who he comes to fer comfort (comfort ya never gave ‘im), you love him. And frankly, you don’t know how else to feel about him.

The worst of it is ya know it’s yer own fault. It was ya who drove Rick away, ya who wouldn’t say I love ya back. And Rick tried, and tried and tried. He even cried over ya, begged at some point fer ya to let ‘im in; to stop pushing ‘im away. But ya couldn’t stop, could you? 

Self deprecating thoughts won over yer love for ‘im, those crippling thoughts that forced ya to push away the best thing that ever happened in yer life. Rick was just too good fer ya. 

Poor Rick. He must’ve thought ya didn’ give a shit about ‘im. 

The last time ya saw ‘im before t’day, he even apologized to ya. Even said he wouldn’t be bothering ya no more. And ya couldn’t even tell ‘im how wrong he was.

He left after that and never came back as he always did. Ya saw ‘im t’day for the first time in five months. But he wasn’t alone. Of course he wouldn’ be. Someone like Rick—ya would’ve t’ be stupid to let someone like Rick go. 

_Stupid like me_.

And ya wonder, _Is he finally over me?_

For it’s not like ya pushed him away all the time. Ya had moments. Great ones. Those were the ones that got you by now that ya lost ‘im fer good. 

Ya will never forget that first kiss. 

Rick almost cried when it finally happened. He was so happy. And ya were too, so much ya couldn’t hide it. But ya were also drunk, so at the moment, everythin’ was perfect. _This is it_ , ya told yerself. _This is what yer life’s gonna be from now on_. But the moment ended and the effect of the alcohol wore off and ya had self doubts again, so ya pushed ‘im away once more. 

The hurt in his gorgeous blue eyes as ya walked away after that first kiss will haunt ya forever. But then it happened again, a moment. And Rick was happy again.

Ya grabbed ‘im and kissed ‘im like a starved dog would attack a scrape of meat, but Rick was no scrape. Rick was a feast. 

He went pliant in your arms as he offered himself to ya with abandon. And when ya thrust inside him over and over again he moaned yer name so loud ya were sure the neighbors would complain. But ya kept going, ‘cuz ya were intoxicated by him: his smell, his skin, his warmth; the gorgeous sight of his naked body, soft and hard and pale and lean underneath yer bulkier form.

He sobbed as ya nailed something deep inside ‘im and latched his arms around yer neck, bringing ya closer and crying yer name with raw emotion in his voice because he finally had you. Because he thought it would last and ya would finally let ‘im love ya and love him back. 

The moment passed once more. Ya got dressed quick and left ‘im there, used and alone. And ya hate yerself ‘cuz ya let it happen over and over again, the same sick game as always: ya fucked ‘im, gave ‘im false hope, felt bad ‘bout yerself and then destroyed it as ya ran away. It became a pattern, one that lasted years. 

Ya still don’t understand why Rick put up with yer shit fer so long. 

Oh, but you _do_ , don’t you? It’s because he loved ya. He loved you more that ya deserved and maybe, even more than ya loved ‘im. For ya hurt Rick too many times to count as a mistake. 

Ya ain’t s’posed to hurt those ya love. 

And now, ya have the nerve to mop and feel bad about yerself ‘cuz ya saw ‘im with someone else, ‘cuz he looked happy and he’s finally over ya, for whomever than man was, he sure wasn’t afraid to show ‘im his affection as he kept an arm wrapped around Rick and looked down at ‘im with adoration. 

If ya really loved ‘im like ya like to think ya do, ya would be happy for ‘im. Ya owe ‘im that much.

“He seemed really happy, Daryl. Maybe you should be happy for him,” Paul says as if reading yer mind. He has that annoying habit. 

“Yeah,” ya say and put the cap back on the bottle and make a decision right there and then. “Yeah.”

Ya reach out to stroke Paul’s soft beard and pull ‘im closer for a passionate kiss. He smiles into it and wraps his arms around yer neck. He’s happy and ya are as well. And when ya wake up the next morning with Paul’s head resting on yer chest after a long night of lovemaking, ya smile ‘cuz the happiness hasn’t gone away. 

“Good morning,” he smiles at you when he wakes up and after a tender kiss, he climbs all too eagerly on yer lap, happy to continue last night activities. And as he rides ya, he says over and over how much he loves ya, and when ya answer, ya mean it.

_I love you back._

 

————————

 

 

Negan wakes up in one of his _moods_ so you slip out of the house before he finds a reason to get angry at you and drive toward the woods where Daryl used to teach you how to hunt for take a walk. It always soothes you, comforts you even, and you find yourself frequenting it more often of late. Because you miss him and you still love him just as strongly as you did back then. 

You tried to forget him, it just didn’t work. 

You knew you would run into him eventually, especially since you park your car in the same spot Daryl parked his truck when they went on hunts together, right next to were his truck is now. 

There are butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you enter the woods, knowing perfectly well you won’t be able to follow his tracks. You still manage to run into him somehow. You wanted to run into him, but not like this. 

He’s seen you, so it’s too late to run and he’ll hunt you down if you do so you stay put and try to stop the trembling in your hands as he makes his way to you.

It's been so long since last you saw him.

“Rick?” Daryl says surprised, closely followed by the younger man he was holding close and kissing tenderly merely seconds ago. “What’re ya doin’ out here?”

“I just—came for a walk,” you answer awkwardly and feel forced to lie. “I’m sorry. I forgot it was your part of the woods.”

“They ain’t mine. Just come here t’ hunt. Though ya should be more careful. I could’ve shoot ya with mah crossbow.”

“Yeah,” you say and look down at your worn down boots shyly, “you’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

“Hi. I’m Paul,” the young man says as you lock gazes with him, stepping around Daryl and offering his hand for you to take. You do and smile at him. “Paul Rovia, but my friends call me Jesus, your pick.”

“Nice to meet you, Jesus,” you say with a smile and pretend not to notice the pain in your heart as Daryl has this love filled look on his face as he follows Paul with his eyes. “I’m Rick.”

“Same to you,” the young man says and steps to the side to take Daryl’s crossbow from the hunter’s shoulder. Daryl barely acknowledges it. He seems really comfortable with this man. “I’ll leave you to talk. Got to practice what he’s taught me or I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

You smile awkwardly and your gaze drop to the forest floor. There’s a knot threatening to form in your throat and your eyes get a bit watery as memories of Daryl teaching you how to hunt invade you, and you can’t help but notice the sharp contrast for Daryl never felt so at ease in your presence as he does with Jesus. And he most certainly never kissed you the way he just kissed this young man.

Daryl eyes you with concern. “Ya alright?”

“Yeah,” you say and blink rapidly before meeting Daryl’s intense gaze once more. “He seems really nice.”

“Yeah…tho’ he gets on my nerves at times,” Daryl says fondly and there’s love in his eyes as he says it. He clears his throat and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. “Saw ya a few months back,” he says suddenly.

“Yeah? Where?” you ask curiously, wondering why the hunter didn’t say hi to you. It hurts, for you thought you were still friends at least.

“The bar—ya weren’t alone,” he shrugs.

“Oh?” you say. “That’s—that was probably Negan.”

“He yer boyfriend or somethin’?” Daryl asks with something akin to curiosity. Not hurt or sadness, just plain curiosity.

“Yeah,” you nod, “uh, actually…he, uh, asked me to marry him.”

As you say that, a shadow crosses over the hunter’s eyes, but it’s too brief and it’s quickly replaced by a smirk. “That’s somethin’. Ya said yes?”

You keep quiet for a couple of seconds. 

In truth, you came for this walk to think about it, and if by an unlikely chance of fate you did run into Daryl, beg him to give you a reason not to. You couldn’t do that now, of course. And you decide to let go of any hope of Daryl ever loving you back you still held so stubbornly onto.  
It’s over. 

“I did,” you nod and force on a smile.

“Yeah?” Daryl says in a weird, edgy tone. You nod tightly. “Well…then I hope it works out fer ya. Ya deserve t’ be happy.”

You almost laugh at the irony for the only way you could ever be happy is by being with him. Negan won’t ever make you happy and you know that, but you keep that thought to yourself and answer as you should.

“Thank you,” you smile and stare deeply into those dark blue eyes you love so much. “So do you.”

You stare at each other for a bit too long and you have to bite your tongue not to say what you so desperately want to say to him because he looks so happy now, happier than he ever was with you. And you feel like apologizing all over again.

“Well, I gotta head back. Negan will be wondering where I am.”

“Right,” Daryl grunts and bites his lower lip. “Bye Rick. See ya ‘round.”

“Bye Daryl,” you say in a strained voice and turn on your heels, walking away with quick steps, furthering the distance between you and the man you love. 

As you walk away from him you swear to never return to those woods. It belongs to Daryl and Jesus now. 

You smile sadly. At least you get to keep the memories.


End file.
